His Father's son
by IchigoNekoKun
Summary: There was a reason Russia kidnapped Prussia at the end of WWII.  not PRussia, not Yaoi. Just read to find out.  I have added a second chapter and there will be a third.
1. The Reason

This is _**NOT**_ PRussia. let's get that out of the way now.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Go call up Himaruya Hidekaz if you want to own Hetalia. Himaruya-san made it.

(Warning: Prussia speaks nearly entirely with a heavy German accent. 'Vas' is usually 'was' but when it means 'What' I write 'was' as 'vuz'.) Enjoy.

The Reason

"Ivan! WAIT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Alfred yelled as the aforementioned Russian dragged off the Prussian Albino.

"None of your business," he smirked as he dragged the screaming man behind him.

"Russia! Mon Ami! STOP!" Francis begged.

"Nyet," He smirked this time. He calmly continued dragging his prisoner behind him as he spewed the most dire curses at him in German.

"YOU BLOODY CURSE! GET BACK HERE NOW!" Arthur snarled. "I SUMMONED YOU HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE AND I CAN-"

"You can what?" He stopped turning to smile benignly at the screaming Englishman.

He shuddered as the taller nation began to chant Kolkhoz at him. The American stepped in front.

"Ivan Braginsky, you stop that now or _else_," he warned.

"Ah, we finally get to the root of it, just because you have the bomb, doesn't mean I fear you, da? You finally grew up to be like the rest," He smiled then slung the Prussian over his shoulder like a sack of German Potatoes. "You are now a tremendous pompous idiot like the rest of Europe, Sweden, the Baltics, my sisters and the Celts aside-of course. I really had high hopes for you, Alfred. Too bad."

"Please Ivan," this time the American's voice had a note of begging. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Yes, da, it does," he sighed. "This isn't about you, Alfred. But, even if it was, I have to say, the outcome would be the same. You still betrayed me."

"I DIDN'T WANT THIS!" Alfred insisted.

"Nyet. Perhaps, you didn't. But the outcome is still the same. Do Svidanya, Alfred. Do Svidanya *."

He smirked. He continued down the path unhindered with little restraint from the prisoner or his former allies on the path.

Inside, he felt quite cold as usual. It was a bitter ache that his sisters could no longer alleviate with their scarves and kind words. Even Alfred, America could only fend it off for so long.

Well, he had failed to stop winter from coming to Siberia.

He had failed when their Enemy, Japan, had fallen.

Russia sighed and adjusted the German.

"Getting comfy zhere you gutt for nozhink hund?"

"Shut up, Gilbert, or I'll forget to call your brother and tell him where I put your bird."

"NEIN! NOT MEIN GILBIRD! DU IST EIN MONSTER!"

"Da. So tell me something I haven't heard before."

Soon they were outside a small house on a large farm. Russia rapped hard against the door.

The sound of muffled fretting and obvious bouncing was heard.

" Дорогая сестра, Украина, you have until a 5-count until I kick the door in. I advise you use it." and he began his count. At 4 the door was violently wrenched open as Ukraine stumbled out onto the porch.

"Ah, Moya Vanya, Moya dorogoi, Moya liyubimui, I'm so sorry, My boss He wouldn't-I couldn't-Oh Vanya, I'm sorry!" He placed his index finger of his free hand against her lips: silencing her cries.

"Shhhhhh. Do not worry. You are coming with me."

"Vanya. Nyet. As much as I want to, I cannot."

"Oh, da, Дорогая сестра, you are coming. Whether your leader likes it or not. I will not have him breaking up our family." without further ado he slung her over his other shoulder and walked off. Ukraine's boss ran out the door first pleading then screaming at the Russian who subsequently ignored him. Ukraine silently ignored her leader.

After a while he let her down to walk beside him. "Do not be sad, sestra! We are going home." But she did not protest.

Russia smiled happily as he opened the door and then gestured for his elder sister to enter.

He soon followed after with Prussia, who was now bound and gagged as well.

("I'm So tired of hearing your whining, So I'm going to put this nice little bandana over your mouth." Ivan smiled holding up the patriotic cloth he had received from America, some time before. "And these ropes will do wonders for that dreadful habit you have of hitting me on the head!" He held up said ropes.

"Nein, please, Vait! I'm very zorry, ja? Pleaze don't do zhis!" Prussia pleaded; knowing full well that the ropes and cloth would not do any 'wonders' for anyone.

But it was too late.)

"Da, welcome home, Dear sestra! and Stupid German boozehound." He smiled and giggled like a child. "Make yourself at home, ok Yekatrina?"

"Oh, Vanya," she sighed softly. "I missed you and this place. Please don't do anything terrible. I don't want to leave."

"Da, who me? Nyet. I will not be too bad to our guest." He gestured to the limp prisoner on his shoulder. "But, there is some business I must take care of involving him."

"Vanya..." she began in a warning tone. At that moment, Toris, Raivis and Eduard appeared.

"Welcome back, Russia," They chorused, bowing to the nation in a gesture of fealty. They had no choice but to do so.

"Ah! Hello my little Baltics!" He smiled with some delight. "Please prepare something for my dear sister, Katyusha. I, myself, am not hungry. Please go about your chores after that."

"We have finished our chores, Mr. Braginsky," Toris volunteered albeit timidly. "Short of preparing dinner."

"Ah, ok," He smiled. "Good. You're all so very good! What would I do without you all? Ok, please take care of my sister and the rest of the night is yours! I will be in my office. Do _**not**_ disturb me for anything less than the USSR being bombed." He took several steps away then turned back. "Or unless, _she_ decides to drop by."

"Yes sir, " Toris replied with a nod.

"_She?_" Ukraine raised an eyebrow.

"Natalya." He replied with a shudder.

"You shouldn't be so cold to her!"

"You don't have her trying to drag you out of the shower halfway through to try to force you into marriage..."

"Oh."

When her brother left the room, Katyusha noticed that the three brothers let out a collective sigh.

"Miss Ukraine?" Raivis tugged at her sleeve. She met his eyes. "Come with us, we shall tend to your every need."

"Oh, that's not necessary. I know where everything is!"

"No. We insist." Eduard replied taking her hand gently and pulling her along to the Kitchen.

Once in his office, Russia tossed the Prussian roughly onto his desk and began to untie and un-gag him. Bad idea. The first thing the Albino did to repay him was punch him in the jaw followed by spitting in his face. He jumped off the desk and grabbed the Russian by his scarf.

"You let zhe awezome me out right now you dirty Russian Dog or elze I vill-"

"You'll what?" The Russian replied, wiping off his face. "You seem to forget where you are, _Gilbert_." The last word was so full of venom Gilbert staggered back onto the desk. So far, all of the Russian's threats had been articulated with the giddy, sweetness of a child's joke. Utterly harmless. The same could not be said for the last interchange. The last held actual danger.

"Look, If du are just trying to hurt mein bruder, Vest, through me, Give up, now. It vill not vork. Vest is strong, and he von't care."

"Oh, _Prussia_," He smirked, his eyes glinted dangerously. "Why would I give a damn about that Brother of yours? It's _you_ I want." He caught the Albino's chin in a vise grip.

"H-haaa, I get it," He smirked. "But just because I am one of the Bad touch Trio, It does not mean zhat I vill pleasure you. So give up now!"

Russia stared bewildered at the red-eyed man before blinking several times as if he didn't believe what the man was spouting.

His hand dropped from Gilbert's pale face and the latter smirked.

Suddenly, Russia was bent over double, his hands clutching at his stomach as the oddest Uhuhuhuhuhuhuu~ sound was emitted.

Prussia backed up to the wall, still stuck on the desk. He wasn't sure what was going on. Though, obviously the taller of the two was having some sort of episode and might throw up on him or worse.

Unfortunately, Russia was between him and the only exit, the door. Said captor was still suffering through the fit mentioned before.

Only when he straightened up, wiped at one lilac colored eye, a light blush gracing his usually frosty cheeks, and the Uhuhuhuuu sound dying down finally, did Prussia understand.

Oh, Heck no.

Russia wasn't suffering some fit or attack or even a stroke.

No.

The Jerk was Laughing at him. Laughing at the GREAT Prussia!

"Oh, boy, that was good, Boozehound! I haven't heard anything so funny since before I met America!"

"Va-Vat vas so damt funny?" he demanded turning a shade Albinos are not normally known for.

The Russian ignored him as he swept past. He smiled and reached into a closet that was built into the room. Gilbert heard the distinct tch-shhh of a refrigerator door being opened and then closed.

"This calls for a drink!" Russia smiled. He held two bottles, one in each hand. The larger of the two contained Vodka; the holder's drink of choice. The other held Beck's Beer. Prussia swallowed hard, staring longingly at the smaller bottle.

Ivan popped the top off the vodka and took a swig.

"Um...He-hey, Russia, vas...vas about me?" He asked with slight embarrassment. How dare the idiot laugh at him then deny him his drink?

"Oh, da, here," He held out the bottle.

Gilbert took it. He opened the bottle and was about to inhale its contents Dutch style when he thought of something. He lowered the bottle and glared at the Russian.

Ivan snorted and rolled his eyes. "It's not poisoned. Drink it or not. I do not care either way, boozehound."

"Heh, Of course not." He took a swig of it though. He swished it in his mouth as one would mouthwash. Nothing wrong so far. He swallowed, relishing in the slight burn of the alcohol. A smirk crossed his lips and he began his original course of action.

The Russian rolled his eyes again. Simple things amused simple minds, it seemed.

Several bottles later, the Prussian was happily dazed and sitting on the desk swinging his legs. Russia smiled from the chair he was sitting in.

The idiot really _was_ a boozehound and considerably more tolerable when he wasn't sober.

"Y-yuh know VAAAAS?" He slurred happily. Pointing at Russia. With his bottle... which spilled onto the hardwood floor. Russia threw a paper towel onto the spill. "You're an ok guy, yuh know for ein total, complete, creepy basta*hic*...vhat vuz I zaying?"

"Nothing important I'm certain," He replied. The Sober Russian lifted the bottle of 'Russian Water' to his lips and took a happy sip.

"Neeeeiiiiiiinnnn..."The Prussian slurred slumping over onto the desk. This was where the other stepped in to avoid having more beer on his floor. Prying the bottle from the other's hand was not any easy task. "It Vuz super...Awzomely...sparkly...spezial...you Kolkhozy you...Ngh..." And without further ado, Gilbert slipped into a blissful unconscious.

The Russian smiled. Step One complete. And he hadn't even done anything wrong by his sister's standards. Nature would provide for torturing this one better than Ivan himself could.

He smiled as he stood over the unconscious albino.

Phase Two Began the next day.

Gilbert Weilshmidt awoke around the same time the sun was near completely above the horizon. He nearly screamed when he did. He had the _worst_ hangover in history and to make it worse, he was in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows dominating the entire length of the east facing wall. he stumbled to then reaching to close the curtains only to find that there were none at all.

He whimpered. As an Albino, the sun and its dastardly rays already were painful upon his awesome, beautiful, sensitive red eyes.

Add in that he was about as far east as you could be, coupled with the snow-covered landscape outside his window and his hangover...

...Obviously one of the "Powers-that-be" wanted him to die. And to suffer as he did.

"He ran back to the bed, shoving as much of the pillows and covers over his head as possible.

The door was open timidly. "M-Mr.-Prussia?" a child's voice intoned.

He tried again as he received no response. "H-Herr Weilshmidt?"

"Go away..." He replied muffledly.

"M-Mr. Prussia, M-Mr. Braginsky says that if you are n-not down for breakfast in five minutes, he'll come up here and drag you down. " The Latvian trembled as he delivered the dire message. "B-by your h-hair if necessary."

"..."

"Mr.P-Prussia?"

"I heard." he retorted.

Soon the Prussian appeared in the too-bright kitchen, finding everyone else had already arrived.

Ivan smirked and rushed up to pat the other male hard on the back. Speaking in his loudest (indoor) voice. "Well! It seems our sleeping beauty is finally up! Not that you would make a good princess! Good Damsel though...Did you sleep _well_?"

"OoOoW! _Verdamt!_" He cursed clutching his head with both hands. "I have a hangover! So shut up already!"

"Oh! I am very sorry to hear that, da? But that is what happens when you drink too much. You need to control your addiction, _da_?" He smirked.

"Shut up you good for nothing-"

Russia yanked the spare seat back from the table causing it to screech against the marble floor.

"AaaAAaAaaAAGH!" He yelped clenching his jaw as he fought back another wave of pain.

"Your Chair," Ivan smiled benignly.

Phase Two was progressing well.

The Prussian was still nursing a headache, when he was dragged off to the library.

He lay miserably on a sofa, facedown in the cushions, lamenting his fate quietly (still hung-over) in German.

The Russian smiled at this.

"Is it cause America likes me better zhan you?"

"What?" The Russian looked up, not really paying attention to the albino.

"Did you bring me here because I'm favored by America?" The Prussian smirked, barely turned from the pillow.

"Nyet." His adversary replied simply and returned to his book with a look of great interest.

"Zhen...Zhen...vhy? Varum?" He begged. "Vhy must I stay here vith you?"

"I told you already, it's _you_ I want. Just you." He smiled.

"Vhy do you vant to torture me so bad? I've never Hurt you!" Prussia complained. "I alvays left you to your own plans, ja?"

"Hnn. Nyet...that...it is not _entirely_ true, Gilbert. You did hurt me," He smirked as he began to strip off his (button down) shirt.

"VAS THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?"

"And to the second, well, you shouldn't have left me alone. If you didn't we wouldn't be here right now." His shirt hit the ground. Soon it was followed more gently by his scarf.

Gilbert gasped.

From the center of the base of his skull and down to the bottom of his left shoulder blade was a long jagged scar. From his left shoulder to his right hip was another. There were countless other lesser scars littering his back and sides.

Then he turned to face Gilbert.

Gilbert's eyes widened to their full extent. They begin to water. "N-nein! Gott! NEIN! ZHAT ISN'T POSSIBLE!"

"But it's true, and you knew it. If you didn't," He laughed softly and did not bother finishing his statement.

Prussia moved towards him. He held out his hand and delicately fingered the Vaguely crescent shaped scar that stretched from over his heart to just over his right hip.

The tan blonde placed two finger under the Prussian's chin and lift his head until the tear filled scarlet eyes locked with his own amethyst ones.

"Ukraine and Belarus...zhey aren't mine...so how...zhey're your sisters after all."

"Ukraine found me," He replied with a simple happy smile. "And we found Belarus."

"You're right to hate me." Gilbert sighed. "I...made a...not so awesome mistake zhen. I understand vhy you do zhis now, ja?"

"I intend to make you suffer." Ivan smiled.

"Ja."

"I want you to bleed and hurt as I did."

"I know." He let his eyes drop to the floor between them.

"And then," Ivan paused and smiled a true smile.

Gilbert looked up again.

"And then, we can be a family again. A real one. Isn't that so, fader?"

"Ja. I understand." he replied coldly. Then as an afterthought, he warmly added. "Son."

I.N.K. Bwaaaaahahaha, Aren't I so terrible? Back before he was a country, back before he even found Ukraine or Belarus, Russia was a wee little (ok he was big then too) territory that belonged to the Prussian empire.

I mean seriously Lol. He ish Prussia without the 'P'.

Oh Noes then who is going to be Spain or France (Seychelles and Florida I suppose...) (Man...they're both girls right? If only the motherlandRussia WAS a girl! *planning second generation BTT* XP)

And No. I'll explain soon but Prussia wasn't abusive, Just neglectful. Not a good parent.

He thought Ivan (whose name was Nicholas (cause that can be German or Russian) when he was Prussia's son) was dead so he fell apart as an empire. Ukraine came across Russia and took care of him until he was strong enough to support himself. (true story...maybe. My Russian history is not so good right now)

We'll get to that soon. But that's my version of Why Russia hates Prussia. It's not that Gilbert spurned him, Ludwig stabbed him in the back (he did), or Alfred betrayed him (he did), it was resentment of Russia's abandonment by Prussia.

*looks at Iggy* Lol...Thank Goodness Sealand is teeny tiny in the middle of the Atlantic (?) Lol...Population of Ten...Maybe...XD

Also...Yes. I'm of the Female persuasion. The Kun is used the same way as Tohru does in Fruits basket. (Look it up. Onemanga .com. Mangafox. com etc.)

Though Strawberry-Cat (IchigoNeko) isn't a usual boy's name in Nihon (Japan)...Unless You're Herakles'(Greece's) Kid! But wait, I'm more like Alfred... :O

Ok, I'm rambling now. Bye-bye.

Oh...Yeah, and Russia had Estonia call West Germany/Ludwig Weilshmidt and told him where to find Gilbird. So he's ok see? *holds Gilbird in palm of hand*

Gilbird: *cheep*

He was in the last place Prussia would have looked.

The AA.

Lol, I'm terrible.

(GOOGLE IF YOU DO NOT KNOW)

**Translations**

**Russian**

Дорогая сестра, Украина - My dear sister-...I think...it might actually be My Dear Sister, Ukraine...(I got this one a Looooooong time ago...:O)

Moya Dorogoi - My dear

Moya - My

Moya Lyubimui - My 'darling?' I think I might be implying something with this one that I don't mean...I do not entirely understand this one...

Vanya- Ivan

Sestra -sister

Nyet - no

da - yes

**German**

Gott - God

Gutt - Good (not sure I spelled it right though. I spelled phonetically.)

Nein - no

Ja - yes

Du ist ein monster! - You are a monster! (roughly. I did it all by myself with my _veryveryveryveryvery _limited German)

Vas - What

Warum/Varum - Why (I tend to spell things how they sound. I apologize in advance if I annoy any native speakers or students of these languages.)

Herr - Mr

Verdamt - Damn (I shouldn't be teaching you kids German swearsies...kolkolkol terrible...)

(I shortened it to Damt at times. I don't know if that changes things.)

hund - hound

Fader - father

Bruder - Brother

Mein - my

Du - you

ist - are/is (?)

**Japanese**

IchigoNekoKun A strawberry Cat the same age as you (If you are a koukousei, XD) who is a bit of a tomboy. (I like hiking, rock-climbing, fishing and swimming. I'm not any good at any of these but I still love them.)

Koukousei...you're on the internet aren't you? Look it up! I will reward the first five who bring me correct answers!

Also I would love corrections on my history and languages. Help a girl out?


	2. Nicholas

This is _**NOT**_ PRussia. let's get that out of the way now.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Go call up Himaruya Hidekaz if you want to own Hetalia. Himaruya-san made it.

(Warning: Prussia speaks nearly entirely with a heavy German accent. 'Vas' is usually 'was' but when it means 'What' I write 'was' as 'vuz'.) Enjoy.

**Nicholas**

(From here on out, I don't even pretend that this is accurate history. Though it is accurate that Iran is the child of Persia and Russia is Prussia's child. Siberia used to belong to it's own country known as the "Siberian Federation" Nowadays China and Russia fight over that area. Politically not militarily.)

Prussia and Young Germany walked up the path to where the little boy lived.

"You _idiot_." Germany snapped. "Vas do you mean he's yours?"

"Like I said, mein bruder, he ist mein son!" Prussia smirk. "Zhe fruit of zhese awesome genetics! My boy, Nicholas."

"How? Hetalians...ve can't have kids, can ve?" Germany asked with a puzzled expression.

"Of course ve can!" he nodded. "Ancient Egypt vas Egypt's mother, zhen zhere's Ancient Greece, Persia, Rome and of course our fader, Germania!"

"But countries don't live long after having children!"

"Zhat's not entire true, bruder," Prussia shook his head. "Persia is still alive."

"Yeah, but he's dependent on Iran!" Germany shook his head too. "Do you vant to be a satellite state?"

"Ja, that's never going to happen," He laughed. "I'm too awesome! Ah, here ve are."

He knocked on the door of an impressive mansion. A little boy opened it. The boy's hair was a mix of platinum, silver and tan blonde hair. He had lilac colored eyes and a bright smile.

"Popi!" he smiled hugging Gilbert's waist.

"Hallo, mein son, how have you been?"

"Ok, I guess," The boy shrugged his shoulders but didn't break the hug. "The jerks from the vest have been bothering me. And that China guy keeps trying to make me speak his language. But I want to be moya own country...Isn't that so fader?"

"Ja, you'll be dein own country one day, and du vill be very strong." He ruffled the boy's hair and smiled. However, Germany could see that Prussia had no intention of giving up the territory that Nicholas represented.

"Say Nikki, mein son, vere is dein bruder?" at this Germany quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, Siberia?" Nicholas tilted his head to one side then the other. "Hmm...Ah, I think he said he vas going to visit the vest girl...ah, Ukraine." He nodded and smiled.

"Ok," he narrowed his eyes. "Ukraine is a good girl. She vill not hurt your bruder nor help anyvone hurt him."

"Popi, why would anyone want to hurt him?" Nicholas asked gently.

"Because, I am on of the last big empires mein son, Zhey vill try to hurt him or you to hurt me. Zhey vill try, but Prussia is too awesome! He vill not allow zhem to hurt his favorite boys!" He ruffled the boys hair. "Let's get somezhing to eat, ja?"

"Can I have vodka, popi?" Nicholas asked eagerly. "can I, poluyista? I am almost as good as you now!"

"Nein, I don't zhink you should get into your bruder's drink. But you may have some of my bier." he nodded then glared. "VAS DO YOU MEAN AS GUTT AS ME? You're not even tventy!"

"You're setting such a gutt example, bruder," Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"Oh vere are mein manners, Nikki, zhis is dein uncle, Ludvig," he introduced. "He is mein not-as-awesome-as-me little Bruder."

"Privyet." Nicholas smiled. It was the creepiest thing Ludwig had ever seen.

"Uh, guten tag..." he nodded with a slight twitch under his eye. Why did he have to be related to problematic people?

* * *

Siberia staggered into his house with Ukraine's help. She was still apologizing profusely.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know Poland would do that!" She whimpered. Tears streamed continuously down her face. "And Lithuania is usually so nice! Poland is a bad influence on him. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have invited you over!"

"It's fine. It's fine. Yekatrina!" He all but growled. He grasped her shoulders and his expression softened somewhat. "Yekatrina, it's not your fault." He kissed her forehead. "Remember vhat ve talked about ok?"

"Of course, Siberia!" She nodded. He wiped the tears from her face and kissed her again. this time on the mouth. "I'll keep my promise if it comes to that."

"I pray to God above that it von't," He smiled.

"Big brother!" A voice chimed. The two turned to find Nicholas standing in the doorway. The boys eyes showed pure happiness at his brother's safe return. This soon faded into a slightly horrified look as he took into account the blood splattered on his older brother's coat. There was a bruise under his left eye, his lower lip was split and he was leaning heavily on Ukraine.

"Hello, Little Russia," Siberia smiled.

"Ah, Big brother?" He ran over and pressed his face into his brother's stomach. He cried into the coat. "A-a-ahhh, Big brother is hurt! I don't vant big brother to die!"

"hah," the older brother smiled. He dropped to his knees and hugged his younger brother. "It's ok. This is nothing. I von't die from this. Don't cry little Russia! Nikki, come on. Yekatrina has cried enough for both of you!"

"B-but, but, oh..."he sniffled pressing his face into his brother's shoulder.

Ukraine watched. Indeed these two were brothers. Siberia looked almost like an older version of Russia. There were only a few key differences. Siberia's hair was pure white, silver really. His eyes were the same color as Russia's but were a slightly different shape, a little more almond shaped due to the greater Asian influence on him. He was very tall with broad shoulders. When standing, Russia who was tall for his age only barely came to his stomach. Siberia was also a foot and a half taller than his father, Gilbert.

"Siberia..." The boys looked at the door. Gilbert was standing there with Ludwig. Gilbert rushed over to his elder son. "Who...Who did zhis to you?"

"Popi, it's fine, I-"

"Who did zhis to you?" he repeated.

"Look it was just Poland and some of his brothers but Poland's a jerk anyway so vhy vaste our time vith him anyvay?" he shrugged. "That Lithuania guy was there too, but he didn't attack me. He just didn't help either." He protected Lithuania due to Ukraine's sister's fondness of the younger country.

"Zhey vill get zheir's," Prussia nodded. "For now, how about a hot meal, some Vodka and a nice hot bath?"

"That sounds good," Siberia nodded. "Come on Ukraine. You'll stay and have supper vith us, von't you?"

"Um, alright," she nodded. "But only a bite. Natalya is still locked in her room."

"She'll be safer there," Siberia assured.

* * *

Now, the author must point out to the reader that Ludwig was indeed right when he claimed that Gilbert, Nicholas and Siberia were problematic people. In fact, Things were not as simplistically perfect as they seemed. Gilbert, for all his fussing was a _terrible_ father. (I mean seriously, who gives a fourteen year old with the body and mental stability of an eight year old, beer?) From their training sessions Nicholas had a scar on the back of his head from the place were his skull connected to his spine and down to his left shoulder blade. Another crossed through the middle of that scar down to his right hip.

Anyone who knew about the scars were amazed by the fact that Nicholas survived when all were (accidental) killing blows.

He was also a bit neglectful. He would go away for months-sometimes years-on end on campaigns against the rest of Europe.

Nicholas and his older brother were left to fend for themselves. Siberia, more and more often was out on his own campaigns against the other Europeans and the occasional Turkish or Mongol horde. The Chinese were also bothersome.

More and more often, Nicholas found himself in the huge mansion, undefended and alone. Heck, if not for Ukraine and her sister's bountiful harvests, he would have starved by now.

One day, Nicholas was sitting out in the snow, building a fort to wage an imaginary battle with his brother when he returned home that evening with their father. (Gilbert was returning from beating France. But then who hasn't?)

Nicholas hummed a sweet tune, the lyrics of which have long since been forgotten by time. A shadow was cast across his work. "Bruder! Popi!" He smiled then faltered as a tall-ish blonde man drew a long sword and pointed it right at his unprotected throat. "You're not-Who are you?"

The other man's emerald eyes glittered dangerously and he smirked. The wind picked up from the west to his back and caused a pink ribbon tied in his hair to flutter. Russia was distracted for a second.

He then noticed the smaller boy standing behind the blonde. He was beautiful there was no other word. He had messy brown hair in a reverse bob framing his soft, pale face and the most beautiful green eyes that Nicholas had ever seen. They were as green as the forest and as green as his mother's had been. His mother, Kiev.

"You're Lithuania," He nodded to the boy who was his probably going to become his little brother if his father and brother's campaigns went well. "You're Liet. Natalya loves you, I think. You're going to be my little brother very soon."

The Pole smirked as he drew his sword up over his head then with frightening speed slashed Nicholas across the chest in a crescent shaped arc. "I will never allow you to have my littlie brother!" Blood splattered on his chest and stomach making the green uniform brown. Blood splattered on Liet's pale skin bringing out his forest green eyes.

Ivan's eyes widened as blood spurted out; staining the snow red. He fell to his knees; hands moving over his heart as if to hold in the blood. The organ slipped into the snow between his fingers. He choked and coughed on the blood and bile rising in his throat. This mess was soon expelled, further staining the once pristine snow.

Poland continued laughing loudly. Lithuania looked around his brother to the crying, bleeding boy laying in the snow. His own eyes filled with tears, he hated seeing anyone in pain. That's just the kind of gentle person Liet was. This boy was obviously dying.

The Russian reached out towards Liet. His vision was going. All he could see was the piercing, compassionate green eyes filled with tears. He reached towards those eyes. His mother's eyes.

"Ki-ev..." The Pole stepped on his hand and smirked. He looked up at the Pole standing on his hand. "What are you-" His head slipped back down into the snow. He slipped into blissful, painless oblivion.

"Poor kid," Poland sighed. "He's like, actually cute. He would have been strong had he lived. Oh well, we're better off without a lot of Half-Prussian bastards running around. Come on Liet."

The boy nodded and followed silently at his brother's heels. Tears continued to stream down his face.

* * *

"I'm zo proud uf du mein son, zhat iz a very imprezzive campaign!" Gilbert laughed. "Ludvig and I haff alzo been quite suzessful."

Ludwig just rubbed his temples. Gilbert was already through several barrels-yes, barrels-of beer and was starting to lose the ability to speak coherently and any thread of sense he might on the off chance possess.

Siberia nodded as he drank vodka calmly from a flask. He relished the burn of the 'Russian Water' as slid down his throat and the warmth that bloomed across his chest. It strengthened him to General Winter's influence on his tundra.

Ludwig, looking around them-looking for a distraction from his alcoholic brother and by-standing nephew, noticed something odd.

"Hey! Isn't zhat Poland and Lithuania?" He pointed. Not four hundred yards from them Poland was sprinting through the woods with Lithuania in his arms. They were coming from the direction of Russia's house and they were covered in blood.

Prussia instantly sobered up. "Verdamt! Vas have zhey done now?"

"Popi!" Siberia pointed in the direction they came. He quickly returned the flask to the pouch on his belt. "Vhat about Nicholas!"

Prussia's eyes filled with a desperate pained look Ludwig had never witnessed in them. "MEIN SON!" He about screamed. Prussia broke into a frenzied sprint, Siberia close at his heels and Ludwig bringing up the rear.

Prussia was almost out of breath by the time he reached the house. He ran in through the black wrought iron gates. Usually he found their menace comforting on a return trip. Today they were maddeningly ominous. There was nothing amiss in the front yard except for some footprints in the snow and some red drips of blood.

He panted softly his head whipping back and forth. Scanning all around.

"Ah, the backyard..." He breathed running around back. The snow was crimson under his heels. He stopped and stared. Tears burned their way down pale cheeks. His crimson eyes becoming red-rimmed and blurry through the salty water. He moved forward, his legs moving sluggishly as he trudged through the snow. His navy blue slacks growing black as they were soaked with snow and blood. He fell to his knees in the worst part.

"No...nonononono...oh please no,...nonono NEEEEEEIN!" He cried. And then, he screamed.

* * *

Siberia and Ludwig were stalled at the gate. Ludwig noticed something else in the snow. He crouched down and ran his fingers through the material.

"Siberia..." He touched the light black powder mixed with the now.

"Da, I see it." He shifted uncomfortably. "That looks like Chinese gun powder from a firebomb."

"I bet zhis whole place is rigged." He left the slushy mixture slide off his gloved palm and stood.

"Just a flaming arrow would set it off." Siberia murmured.

"We have to varn Gilbert," He narrowed his eyes.

"! MEIN SON! MEIN SON! MEIN SON! NEEEEEEEEEIN!"

The two exchanged looks and ran around back.

They found Prussia kneeling in the snow. He was sobbing and screaming incoherently in German. He was covered in ice and snow. Cradled in his arms was Nicholas. His eyes were shut, his skin deathly pale and he was covered in blood. There was blood on his face, hands, chest and staining both sides of his mouth.

His clothes and skin were torn along a crescent shaped cut along his chest. He wasn't breathing.

Siberia fell to his knees beside his father. His arms reached out toward his beloved little brother.

"No...nyet, Nikki...Come on Nikki... Get up, Bruder...polyuhsta...Get up...Nyet" He sobbed. "this is my fault...It's my fault...If I'd come straight home...he wouldn't have been outside! He wouldn't have been alone! VERDAMT! DO YOU HEAR ME POLAND?" He screamed standing abruptly. "HEAR ME! I _WILL_ KILL YOU FOR THIS! HE WAS MY BROTHER! HE WAS JUST A CHILD! YOU MONSTER! _I'LL KILL YOOUUUU!_" He panted; his silver bangs hiding his tears, his throat raw and sore from screaming. He turned back to Prussia and Germany when a voice stopped him. Well, not so much a voice as an amused laugh.

"What do _you_ want?" Siberia demanded as he met the white haired old man's cold, dead grey eyes. "Haven't I suffered enough?"

"Oh, Siberia, I don't have to do anything and still you are so amusing to me." General Winter cackled. "I thought you should see something." He knelt and grasped a clump of snow and ice and threw it at the other.

Siberia caught it one-handed and was about to crush _whatever_ it was until he felt something odd. He brushed the snow off. In his hand was a small frozen, ice encased heart. But it was still _beating_. His eyes widened. He turned to his father and snatched his beloved brother away.

"Hey!" Prussia snapped.

"There's still time," Siberia breathed hopefully. He checked the wound, widening it slightly with his fingers to peer inside. His brother's heart was not in his chest. _It was in his hand_.

Siberia smiled (kind of dementedly), and slipped the organ back in place.

"Vas are you doing?" Germany asked as he watched.

Siberia smiled. It was going to be ok, he could already see that Nicholas' wounds were beginning to heal. He took off his coat and laid it on the ground. He placed Nicholas on top of it and removed his shirts. He began ripping them into strips for bandages.

"You know we have medical supplies in ze house, ja?" Prussia asked in a sort of distracted way. "You don't have to do it that way. I'll go get them."

"Can't"

"Vas?"

"The house is rigged to set off some Chinese firebombs if you open the door."

"Vas!"

He diligently continued his work. He washed the blood off with melted snow and began treating the wound. From the pouch at his belt, he now pulled medical supplies. He threaded a needle and sewed the wound shut. He began bandaging the boy's chest. He was now breathing and making small noises of pain. He was still as deathly pale as before.

Siberia, finished and satisfied with his work nodded and packed the things back up. He then gathered the boy, coat and all, into his arms and stood.

"Look, we need to take him to Ukraine, Yekatrina has better facilities to care for him right now." Siberia stated his eyes an icy shade that wasn't uncommon to see in him. "Then we can stock up and prepare to wage war on Poland."

"Ja," Prussia nodded. He led the way towards Ukraine's house.

* * *

Ok, that's the end of this one. The last part will come soon. Its at Ukraines house, explains what happened to Siberia, Why Prussia is a sattalite state, and why Natalya/Belarus loves Russia.

If you didn't get it, Nicholas _IS_ Russia/Ivan. You'll find out more about that in the next segment. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Himaruya Hidekaz does.


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